


Those Three Words

by dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 10:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10615125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap/pseuds/dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap
Summary: Astoria wants to hear 'those three words' from Draco. If only he could figure out what they are.





	

Let me just start off saying that I have reached a new low. It’s official, I have reached rock bottom and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

 

Lightly, I knock on the door of my father’s study, waiting patiently for him to let me enter.  Normally I wouldn’t have dared to bother him but I needed manly advice and Blaise just wasn’t cutting it. He knows just as much as I know about women. (Nothing.)

 

“Enter,” father shouts angrily, making my heart start to beat at a much faster pace.

 

Nervously, I open the door and shuffle into the room like a child caught eating sweets before supper. I stand by his desk, twiddling my thumbs. That’s a funny word, twiddle. Twiddle, twiddle, twiddle…

 

“Draco?” father questions running a hand through his grey hair.

 

He has become incredibly old, my dear father. But I’m losing my train of thought.

 

Twiddle, twiddle, twiddle.

 

“Father, I have a problem.” He groans, dropping his head in his hands. I decide to get it over with, “You see Astoria—“

 

“Of course it’s about Astoria,” he mumbles rolling his eyes.

 

Well, excuse me! Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. Nevertheless, I storm ahead,

 

“We’ve sort of hit a snag in our relationship because she…well, she says it’s entirely inappropriate for us to continue dating since the relationship is going nowhere because I refuse to say…well,” it all comes out in a rush. I'm not sure he even understands me. I don't understand myself, "I refuse to say those three words,” I say quickly.

 

Father sighs, leans back in his black leather chair and taps his fingers on his desk, deep in thought.

 

“Do you love her?” he questions.

 

I cringe making him yet again roll his eyes like some teenager. Honestly, this is the man I’m coming to for advice? Even Harry Potter would have been better. Or Granger with her bushy hair of knowledge.

 

“Heh…I suppose?” I answer uncertainly.

 

Father nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer and rub his hands together.

 

“Well then, just say it.” He says with finality waving his hand to dismiss me.

 

I don’t say anything, just turn around and walk out of his study and into the dimly lit corridor, groaning. That was not helpful. I should have talked to my Mum.

 

-x-

 

“One firewhiskey Tom and keep them coming!” I command, snapping my fingers at Tom the barkeep.

 

Before he can nod or say ‘Yes Mr.Malfoy’ a tap on my back has me swivelling around in my chair to smirk at the person I see standing in front of me.

 

The young woman twirls a piece of her blonde hair and bites her lower lip. It’s covered with a thick layer of pink gloss.

 

“Would you be a kind gentleman and let a girl sit? All the other stools are taken,” she says.

 

Her voice is like sweet syrup that…err…coats my throat. I nod, eyeing her up and down, taking in the tight short thigh-high black dress. I’m practically drooling as Tom hands me a tall glass of fire whiskey.

 

Silently I take a small sip of my drink and she coughs as if waiting for me to say something. But my brain goes blank and after a minute of unbearable silence between the two of us I’m forced to shove my hand in the side pocket of my trousers and pull out a small piece of parchment.

 

“Do you…Merlin, what does that say, terrible lighting in here…ah, do you come here often?” I question shoving the parchment back in my pocket.

 

But the mysterious girl—who I have forgotten to ask her name—groans and rolls her blue eyes in annoyance.

 

“I told you to memorize your lines Draco! You’re three lines ahead! Would you honestly pick-up a girl without finding out her name first? My name could be something terribly unattractive like Mildred, would you date a Mildred?” She questions harshly.

 

“Astoria,” I mumble glaring at Tom who seems to be enjoying our conversation,” your name is Astoria. Not Mildred, no, it’s…Bonnie right? And I’m…” I groan shoving my hand back into my pocket and pulling the parchment out again, squinting trying to read her hand writing,” my name is Fred…you named me after a Weasley!” I shout, horrified.

 

She groans and snatches the parchment from my hands.

 

“You didn’t even read it? Do you even care about this relationship Draco? Does it even cross your mind… _no_ , I suppose not. I should have never listened to my Mum and gone on a date with you—“ she says, her voice layered with anger.

 

Rolling my eyes I place my drink down to squeeze her nose—I hear it’s a romantic gesture in France or one of those countries—only making her growl in anger.

 

“And I should have agreed with my Mum and the portrait of dear Grandfather Abraxas when they called you a two sickle whore.” I retort.

 

Behind Astoria, Tom whistles shaking his head with discomfort and Astoria kicks my shin making me yelp.

 

“Don’t you care about me Draco? Do you even….do you even…” she waits for me to finish sentence.

 

But I can’t because Tom is listening in with a creepy eager expression on his face and I can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing what’s going on in my private life. I’m sure he’s a gossip—every bar man is—and I don’t need the Daily Prophet to run an article on my love life.

 

Plus, there’s a fly that’s buzzing around that I’m sure is really just an unregistered Animagus of a reporter or some nosy Nancy or Granger.

 

“Do you even, what? Do I know what? Of course I care…wait, are you calling me stupid? Of course I know how to read Astoria, I was looking forward to this role-playing thing…I think. What do you think?”

 

She scoffs poking my chest roughly with a perfectly manicured finger.

 

Doesn’t she know I bruise like a peach?

 

Women.

 

“Let me make this clear. If you keep playing dumb and don’t say the three words I want to hear I will leave you. Three words Draco.” She says her voice dripping with venom.

 

Gulping I nod my head in understanding and purse my lips together making an ‘o.’

 

Well, here goes nothing. Tom and Animagus bug or not.

 

“Move in me?” I say shrugging my shoulders.

 

That felt really good. Really natural.

 

Astoria groans smacking her head on the bar.

 

“That’s not even a proper sentence. It’s move in _with_ me.”

 

I pause, contemplating what she’s saying and nod my head in agreement.

 

 

“Well,” I say taking a deep breath,” it’s a bit forward, but sure. I’d love too.”

 

Astoria groans again mumbling curses under her breath.

 

Was it something I said?

 

-x-

 

After much shouting I figured out Astoria didn’t actually want me to move in with her and she didn’t want to move in with me. Apparently I misunderstood her but I’m sure she asked me…I think she realized it _was_ a bit forward.

 

But according to Blaise, my Father and the portrait of my Grandfather I am an idiot.

 

But they’re all extremely rude which leads me to my next point: I’m giving my father the silent treatment. It’s extremely justified but hard when I’ve got my Mum expecting a nice family dinner between the four of us—even though Astoria isn’t a Malfoy—but Astoria is giving _me_ the silent treatment. So we all sit in a happy silence until the time comes when I want someone to pass me the chicken, which is at the other end of the table.

 

It’s all very confusing.

 

“We should go to France, all of us. It’ll be a lovely family trip. Don’t you agree Draco?” Mum says winking at Astoria and then smiling at me.

 

I shrug, considering Astoria doesn’t want to move in with me I think a trip to France is too big of a commitment. But I won’t break my Mum’s poor, fragile heart.

 

“I love French things,” I say earning a groan from Astoria, “I love French people.” She groans again this time kicking me underneath the table.

 

I don’t think she believes me. Maybe I should elaborate.

 

“Well, I do. I love France very much. It’s just lovely.”

 

On the opposite side of the table Father snorts into his hand earning a look of repulsion from Mum. She should have gotten rid of him years ago, honestly.

 

 

“Just keep throwing that word around Draco. It’s good to know you’ve got it in your vocabulary,” Astoria mutters poking.

 

Mum arches one perfectly groomed eyebrow at me and Father smirks, trying his best to not laugh.

 

“What word?” I question.

 

“I believe she means love Draco.” Father says with a grin.

 

I don’t understand. He’s always so cryptic. Ex-Death Eaters, honestly.

 

“Are you two having trouble?” Mum questions anxiously.

 

The sad look on her face is too much to bear. Slowly, because I’m sure if I do it quickly Astoria will shove her fork in my eye, I inch my hand towards hers to show that we’re all right. We aren’t having an argument.

 

Are we?

 

“Don’t touch me,” she commands making me inch away from her, “Your father gets it Draco but you don’t. I’m waiting around for a boy to become a man. I’m going to get grey hair by the time you join this planet.”

 

I scrunch up my face and stare at my Mum trying to telepathically ask her what Astoria is going on about but she looks just as confused as I am. Nervously, Mum pushes back her blonde hair and bites her bottom lip waiting for Astoria to go on.

 

Meanwhile Father smirks, shoving a brussel sprout in his mouth. This was starting to feel like a comedy show that I’d missed the joke of.

 

“I understand Astoria. I do,” I say.

 

Her eyes brighten and she turns towards me with a slight smile on her face.

 

“You do?” She questions hopefully.

 

“Of course. I was so stupid the other day. You kept talking about the three words, you were hinting at it and today. I understand. You don’t want to die a spinster. I get it.”

 

“What?”

 

“Will you marry me?”

 

“Yes!” Mum shrieks clapping her hands together with excitement.

 

Next to her Father chokes on his brussel sprout turning the funniest shade of purple I have ever seen.

 

Astoria screeches next to me and smacks her head on the dinner table.

 

“What’s the matter? Oh, I get it. You want a ring, here.” I say reaching into my soup bowl and removing a soggy onion. “It’s a bit big.”

 

She groans as Mum cries with excitement.

 

I’m taking that as a yes.

 

-x-

Apparently it was not a yes. After giving Father the Heimlich—which I didn’t know Mum was even aware of—he so graciously explained to me what Astoria meant. Of course he waited until she poured the entire contents of her soup bowl on my head and stormed out very gracefully.

 

I’m not sure what he was talking about though.

 

He said something about three words, one of them starting with an ‘L’ and the others being I and you. And then he got angry when I told him that didn’t sound like a proper sentence and he pushed me into the fireplace muttering something about Hogwarts education.

 

I really should have gone to Mum for advice.

 

So, thanks to Father I’m standing outside Astoria’s bedroom door with her Mum on one side of me and her Father on the other with Daphne—her annoying sister—opening and closing the bedroom door ready to interpret our conversation. Daphne loves to but in on our conversations and always contradicts my words. I have gotten smacked several times thanks to her.

 

“Astoria. I’m sorry. Please talk to me!” I shout trying to inch into the room.

 

Daphne blocks me with a sour expression on her face.

 

“Astoria!” she shouts, “I’m not sorry! Never talk to me again!”

 

Inside the room I can hear Astoria scream and something crash on the floor.

 

Scowling I try again.

 

“Astoria! Come out! Talk to me! I promise I’ll listen! Well, I’ll try!” I yell again.

 

Next to me Mrs. Greengrass coughs and Daphne rolls her eyes with a smirk on her face.

 

“Astoria! I’m coming out! Never talk to me again! I won’t listen! I promise! Well, that was a lie!” Daphne shouts.

 

Again a loud scream can be heard—Merlin, she has a pair of lungs—and a loud horrific crash from inside the room.

 

“Must you be such a nuisance?” I question Daphne glaring at her.

 

She rolls her brown eyes and shrugs her shoulders, the curls of her equally brown hair bouncing.

 

“Do you love my sister Draco?” She questions quietly.

 

At this both Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass turn towards me with questioning looks on their faces.

 

“I…” I can’t think of the correct answer because there isn’t one.

 

Surely I don’t need to answer this. No, not to them. I know how I feel, Astoria knows how I feel and Daphne…well, I don’t have a proper adjective to describe her.

 

“Well?” Mr. Greengrass questions.

 

Beads of sweat are forming on my forehead and it suddenly feels like I’m suffocating.

 

I gulp scratching the back of my neck.

 

 

“I want her to bare my children?” I say unconvincingly.

 

I almost miss the flash of anger on Mr. Greengrass’s face as he whips out his wand levitating me out of his house quickly.

 

Talk about feeling unwelcome.

 

-x-

 

After much contemplation and a smack on the head from Mum I realized what my problem was. I was going about this all wrong. To give Astoria what she wanted I had to do it in a flashy way. Saying those words—I finally figured out what Father was talking about…(he did have to spell it out for me though)—meant a change in our relationship.

 

Although marriage would have also.

 

But I digress.

 

Naturally I didn’t have any sane people to turn to when trying to come up with a master plan. So I went with my gut and my wallet. Twenty galleons later and Daphne caved in, telling me where Astoria was going for the week.

 

I figured her impromptu shopping trips in Italy, Spain and France weren’t the romantic settings I was looking for. What are those countries known for anyway?

 

So, instead I opted to trailing her in Diagon Alley on a rainy Friday. I was trying to muster up the courage the entire day to face her and finally blurt out what she wanted to hear but I wanted the right setting.

 

And finally after three menial hours of dashing behind trashcans and into dark alleys I found my ray of hope as she walked alone towards Whiz Hard Books.

 

 

“Astoria!” I shout running towards her.

 

She wasn’t that far off but still running always sounds much more dramatic than ‘walked briskly.’

 

“What are you doing here?” She questions glaring at me.

 

For a moment I almost forgot.

 

“I wanted to tell you something.” I say uncertainly.

 

She huffs and rolls her eyes pushing past me and walking into Whiz Hard mumbling something incoherent under her breath.

 

I rush in behind her after much thought and have to push past several book freaks—you know what I’m talking about, the weirdos that smell books and cry when reading them—in search of a petite blonde woman.

 

“Astoria!” I shout dramatically again.

 

There are not that many people in the shop and yet they all ‘shush’ me making me grumble.

 

“Astoria!” I whisper picking up a dusty book to see if she’s hiding underneath it.

 

“Astoria!”

 

“Will you shut up!” A voice shouts back at me.

 

 

Target spotted.

 

I walk towards Astoria who is huddled on the floor with tears streaming down her face. She looks like a wreck, her make-up is messed up and her hair is a bit dishevelled and she’s hiccupping (a nervous habit of hers).

 

She has never looked more beautiful in my eyes before.

 

“Why are you crying?”

 

“Because you’re an idiot. Because I’m an idiot. Why am I even dating you?” she says sniffling.

 

 

I ask myself the same thing.

 

“Astoria listen,” I say crouching down on the floor. “I don’t know if you’ve realized but I’m a bit slow. And I do stupid things—“

 

She puts her hand up cutting me off.

 

“I don’t understand why you’re torturing me, I get it Draco, you don’t love me. You’ve made that quite clear during the past three days.” She says with a sigh.

 

I roll my eyes at her dramatics and plant my hand on her mouth to shut her up.

 

“That’s the thing. I love you, I love you more than something loves..well anything,” I say shaking slightly, “I love you as much as Harry Potter loves that ginger-haired girl…oh don’t laugh at me, they have a very romantic story. I read it in the Prophet.”

 

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head wiping at her tear stained face. My heart is beating rapidly in my chest, faster at every movement that she does. It’s unbearable. I think I’m having a heart attack.

 

“Now,” I say managing to continue,” I’m terribly in love with you and I’ll feel like a fool if you don’t say it back. I suppose I’ll have to go and woo Granger if you reject me,” I mumble, twiddling with my thumbs.

 

She doesn’t say anything but stares at me for a full minute and then starts hysterically laughing.

 

“I tolerate you,” she whispers grinning.

 

I groan getting up from the floor and reaching my hand out to pull her up.

 

“If I could have gotten away with just saying I tolerate you I wouldn’t have made such a big spectacle.” I mutter.

 

Astoria snorts and smacks my arm making me groan. Slowly she wraps her arms around me sighing contently.

 

“I love you.” She whispers.

 

It’s so faint that if I wasn’t waiting for it, wasn’t expecting it, I wouldn’t have heard it. Women make everything so complicated.

 

Honestly.


End file.
